


It’s Not All Bad

by SpeedingCheetah



Series: blnt fics ive wrote to rip my heart out subconsciously [8]
Category: better luck next time - Fandom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Major Character Injury, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Break, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Sickfic, Spin-off fic, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Vigilantism, read carefully, someone kill the Gekkeiju for me please thank you, triggers are in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeedingCheetah/pseuds/SpeedingCheetah
Summary: Izuku normally doesn’t get sick. He normally can hold out and wait until the weekends before succumbing to high fevers or an endless ache in his chest that makes it hard to breathe and articulate any coherent sentences.For once though, he wasn’t able to ignore sickness when it came knocking.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku is mentioned, Midoriya Inko & Midoriya Izuku is mentioned, Midoriya Izuku & Shuuzenji Chiyo | Recovery Girl is mentioned, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto
Series: blnt fics ive wrote to rip my heart out subconsciously [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195742
Comments: 19
Kudos: 247
Collections: Read it and Weep, better luck next time and related works





	It’s Not All Bad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nauticalwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/gifts).
  * Inspired by [better luck next time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394571) by [nauticalwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/pseuds/nauticalwarrior). 



> Trigger Warning: _Mentions of Violence (Gore + Blood), Injury, Brief Mentions of Self-Harm, Brief Mentions of Suicide (Izuku’s Quirk), Mentions of Death, Mentions of Torture, Nausea / Sickness.._ I believe that’s all; Read with caution.
> 
> — — — 
> 
> this is bribery,,, @nauticalwarrior
> 
> I have finished my bribery, take it. I have no idea how to write SickFics, so apologies in advance, but _I have completed the sickness-prompt so I have reached my goal-_
> 
> 11k words of unedited bullshit. Nice. >:D

The world felt relatively warm when Izuku woke up, as if the sun had wrapped itself around his skin with a dainty pressure and desire to keep him away from the clutches of cool air and winter weather. 

He wasn’t sure why everything felt fuzzy, or why his heart was beating in his ears, but he knew that he had class today, and no matter what he did he had to go and get ready. He had no spare time, and even if the current comfort of the sheets and covers he was currently holed up in felt like Heaven; A sweet euphoria of Fury’s kindness, he still had to get his schoolwork done.

If he fell behind, it’d be a pain to try and catch up without forcing himself to spend more nights as _Izuku Midoriya_ rather than as his more chaotic and clearly more known identity as Ace. 

Izuku blinked sluggishly, peeling his eyes back open. The world felt far too bright for it to be his normal wake up time, and yet the pounding in his skull was enough to convince him that he had slept in far too much. 

His window’s curtains were partly open, pale yellow filtering in through the balcony’s glass. It would have been something nice to wake up to if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew something was messing with his awareness, and that the obscure hum that filled his ears wasn’t something he should feel happy about. 

His head was resting on his pillow, hair in his face and arm laid in front of him, his bed’s blanket screwed up all around him in every which way. It was a mess, almost like the web he was often caught in due to his lack of leniency with honesty. He was tightly captured by threads from every silk, ripping off from hand-knitted sweaters and tattered fabrics. 

For a few moments, he couldn’t move. He heard a distant chatter downstairs, most likely because his classmates were up already. Besides Shinsou, normally he was the first one up out of his peers, though that excluded his teacher who practically only slept during the day once he was done teaching class. 

_Why is it so hot?_ Distantly, he wondered if the fan was on. His throat felt sore and he knew there were beads of sweat slowly dripping down his nape and soaking into the back of his shirt, but he wasn’t sure as to why. It was almost revolting, and made him shiver at the small amounts of liquid that dribbled across his skin, rolling down the side of his face.

It felt as if his room’s air conditioner had broken during the night while he slept, but such a thing sounded rather doubtful. Then again, it was winter, so it wasn’t supposed to be this damn hot- Even if one of his peers’ turned on the entire dormitory’s back up heating system. 

Izuku screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to lift his head off the pillow and push himself upwards. As soon as he did, pain broke out and buzzed through his entire system, sharp pangs of white shooting through his spine and causing him to choke on the breath he had been inhaling to try and clear his dizzy and heated mind. _Oh- Oh fuck._

The prior night’s events came rushing back to him, and he winced violently, hunching over despite the stretching of skin and aggravation that the movement caused. It was a cold burning, The vertical cuts on his flesh having gotten infected. He had forgotten about the injuries entirely- Forgotten that he had taken as many doses of Tylenol that he did. 

_How many? Five?_ He blinked quickly, trying to reach a shaky hand up to his face to try and wipe away the wetness in his eyes. It could be tears from the aching and agonizing injuries on his back, or it could be accumulated sweat from the sickness he currently found himself plagued with. 

Was it even sickness if it was his own fault for being cowardly and not at least _trying_ to treat the injury once he got into his dorm? _Probably._ The teeanger’s mouth felt parched, and he felt his hand ghost over the side of his face. At the slight contact, his own skin dusting over his cheek, he reeled backwards from his hand as if it was a cigarette.

Pain bloomed across his skin; Inside of his nerves like a cherry-blossom in the spring, lighting up with pink and red hues that blinded his vision. White shards of glass were pressed to his mind, as if it would hold him hostage from moving or inhaling too deeply. 

It did, actually, as much as he hated to admit. 

There was no reason for him to make this a big deal, or to even bother with trying to fix it. If he was sick from infection, that meant he had to try and explain _how_ he had gotten an injury great enough to cause an immediate reaction. He'd have to explain how it resulted in bacteria and illness clinging to his body and making him hurt bad enough to not want to move. 

_This has to be some sick joke._ Izuku thought to himself, unable to swallow what little saliva was in his mouth. His hand was shaking in front of him, and he dropped it into his lap, unable to breathe. His body was quivering, and everything was blurry with an unwanted haze that prevent him from seeing the clear outline of the world around him

Then, he paused, the irony of his situation striking him hard in the chest. He would have laughed at the ‘cruelty’, but there was a pretty good chance he’d choke on a lung and suffocate if he were to try and laugh right now. His brow twitched, and a self-pitying expression appeared on his face; Atoned by a bit of amusement. _Ah. I’m the sick joke. Wow._

He swallowed the laugh that threatened to bubble out of his throat, legs tangled underneath the blankets. He had class soon, and yet his body was buzzing with warmth that was unnatural. If he tried to get up now, there was a solid chance he'd fall over and actually let his head hit the ground so a concussion could form. 

So, Izuku didn’t move. 

The teenager sat there, hunched over and breathing shallowly so he wouldn’t disturb his back. It was his own fault for being careless and discussing his status and situation in the raid with Haruta, and it was his own fault for not forcing himself to go and tend to the injuries properly. He didn’t regret taking the fall for the other male, but he did regret not being more careful.

He really did.

It felt like an eternity before he heard a gentle knock on his door, a static voice filling his ears past his dorm room wall. Izuku blinked, clearing away the fuzziness that was in his vision. His mind slowly started turning again, and he squinted at his door, _How long have I been drifting?_

The teenager couldn’t bring himself to answer, but he could feel saliva pool on his tongue. It was a familiar notion, but he wasn’t too sure as to why he recognized it. Everything was fuzzy with a hum that reminded him of an elevator, which made him wince at the idea. 

His back hissed at him for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to try and wane the feeling off. It ached and attacked him repeatedly, like a blade being pressed to his skin even if there were already cuts across his biceps. It hit him until he bled, and yet he didn’t mind it. The fuzziness was enough to make him ignore the pain and keep breathing lightly; Chest barely moving to indicate he was getting any oxygen.

He swallowed thickly, hoping he was in some weird lucid dream and that he wasn’t actually suffering with what was probably a high fever _and_ an infected injury. If someone found out about the injury, it’d be a genuine mess he wouldn’t be able to reset to fix.

In his current loopy state, it was severely doubtful that he’d be able to reset and immediately play his cards currently in order to act as if nothing was wrong. Whatever was causing him to feel so dazed and nauseous clearly wasn’t just an infected injury, although he assumed that was probably a major part of it. 

Izuku blinked again, brows furrowing and teeth gritting when he heard another knock at his door, the knob turning but not moving. Distantly, he could hear himself think about something involving his door, but he couldn’t fully process his own words. _I locked it last night.. Ah._

The jingling of the door handle made him sick, and he wished he could mute the world around him like a video online. Everything sounded so loud from where he sat on his bed, but in comparison to how he felt, it was a great contrast. He felt like his body wasn’t his own, that he was somewhere far away underneath a soft ray of sunlight with a gentle hand moving through his hair; Someone mumbling something to him that would make his chest ache in a happy and ditzy way.

It felt like he was floating, surrounded by something soft and airy. He knew that he wasn’t a cut ally in that strange idle fantasy of euphoria and peace, but he also couldn’t bring himself to further acknowledge the reality of his situation. 

He could hear another knock, vaguely recognizing it in his ears, the pattern being rather frantic. Did they think he was dying or something just because one morning he ‘slept in’ and wasn’t answering anyone? 

Did they not trust him to stay alive and well? 

_Actually,_ His brows furrowed, and he felt slight amusement and exasperation flood his senses for a few seconds. _That makes a lot of sense. How nice._

It wasn’t fun in the slightest, especially because if they thought he was dying just because he wasn’t up before them in one day, they’d have one hell of a time when and if they ever found out he had been dying simply to feel a sense of relief sense he was in middle school. Oh how _fun_ that’d be. 

Izuku froze, trying to come up with a coherent thought. _Wait, does this even count as dying?_

There was a click, and he heard his door slide open; Unlocked from the outside. Probably a bobby-pin or something, if it wasn’t his teacher’s keys. A part of him wanted to frown and grumble about the invasion of privacy, but he knew that was just him being offended at the fact someone came in instead of waiting another twenty minutes for him to actually _speak up_ and say something that indicated he was okay. 

A rush of dizziness hit him, and he barely managed to keep his head up before he heard a surprised and muddled, ‘Midoriya?’ Enter his ears- Someone bolting over to him before he fell and hit his head on the corner of his nightstand. 

He felt a hand catch his shoulder, swiftly propping him back up. It made his skin crawl, and he felt the burning of Fury’s quirk return to him. The teenager reeled backwards from the contact, although such an action wasn’t fast nor did it do much to force the growing feeling of discomfort and tension away. His body shook, against the touch, the daze he was in shifting into one of confusion and a revolting heat that pounded in the back of his head.

“Midoriya?” The hand that was on his shoulder was a reassuring iciness, but Izuku couldn’t place who was there in the room with him. Warmth crept up his spine despite the chill that came from the other’s hand, filling his nerves with a prickling calefaction that made his head spin. 

It wasn’t warm; The touch, he meant. It was cold and spread across his kin, dampening his senses briefly. Perhaps it was a bad thing, perhaps not. Izuku couldn’t bring himself to care, instead choosing to let his mind slip between the cracks again.

He blinked groggily in response to whoever was there with him, wincing when the person spoke again; The voice sounding far too loud despite said being talking at what seemed to be nothing more than a concerned murmur. It was almost soothing, to hear such kindness and genuine concern, but Fury’s words slunk back into his mind and he winced. 

It wasn’t a pleasant connection, and he wished he could block out every single meeting with the villain. As such, if he could forget all of those interactions, it would save him the trouble of trying to decipher who meant to harm him, and who was just trying to be nice. 

“Midoriya? You’re burning up.” The person said again, and he was only vaguely aware the back of their hand was pressed to his forehead, his bangs brushed away and gently tucked behind his ears. It was a nice gesture, one that was probably supposed to provide him comfort, but he currently couldn’t stop the feeling of self-pity from surging through him. 

He felt a gentle cold rush over his head, quiet words tickling his skin as if someone had just exhaled ice over his head to cool the fever he surely must’ve had. “I’m going to get Aizawa-Sensei, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Izuku tried to clear his vision, but failed. 

He reached a hand upwards, brushing against his classmate’s sleeve. Forcing his fingers to pinch the fabric, he hoped he developed some form of a grasp around the cloth that made up UA’s school blazer. His voice hurt, and it took a bit of thinking; But he managed to voice a small, and rather questioning, greeting. “Todoroki?” 

“Yes, that’s me.” Todoroki agreed, voice lowering a few notches to see quieter; A far more welcoming gesture than what he had expected of the monotone ice-user. Was that why he felt cooler? Did his friend use some of his frost to try and ward off the worsening fever that Izuku had? “You have a fever, Midoriya.”

The sick teenager took a few moments to process his friend’s words, before blinking again and letting his eyelids fall back shut. He didn’t really want to be left alone to face the binding world of knives and blood that he was mixed up with; But he didn’t want to bother his companions either. And yet, for once, Izuku really wanted to indulge himself in gentle reassurances and concerned smiles.

He shook his head lightly, the dizziness returning. “Mm.. Stay.”

“I need to get a teacher,” Again, Todoroki replied with great care. If he wasn’t aiming to be a hero, or hadn’t grown up under his father’s household, he probably would have been one hell of a paramedic. Or anyone on Emergency-Standby, actually. 

Todoroki knew what he was doing, and wasn’t mad at him for being only half-aware of the world around him. His classmate seemed fully capable of accepting the fact that Izuku was in no state to agree or even bother to try and disagree with him, meaning the dual haired male had to try and get him to understand a situation when he could barely understand why his head hurt.

Such patience levels were rather high, honestly. 

He liked the coolness that dashed over his senses, a reminder of the fact his peer was willing to try and soothe his fever with a quirk that probably shouldn’t be in use for common illnesses. Then again, his current state wouldn’t exactly be considered _common,_ so that was a thing, too. “You’re.. Cold.” 

“Yes, I’m aware. I need you to lay back down, and to stay awake.” His peer said again, and he felt a hand guide him back down against his pillows. It was a slow and cautious action, helping his head rest against the cushion. “I’m going to get Aizawa-Sensei so he can clear you from school today; There’s no way you can go to class like this.”

Izuku’s brows furrowed, and he tried to think of an excuse. Tried to think of _anything_ to say to try and ease his friend into believing he was perfectly fine. Then again, he wasn’t fine at all; And probably needed help and comfort now then ever, but he was still paranoid of the risks involved with getting help. “It’ll..”

“It will not be fine; Don't bother.” His classmate didn’t like how he tried to deny the medical attention, swiftly replying. Todoroki was straightforward in that sense, but he wasn’t blunt when he spoke. At least, not in this situation he wasn’t. 

He seemed collected, but it wasn’t a calm pool of understanding. It was rippling with anxieties that even the freckled teen recognized, but he couldn’t get any words of confirmation to come out. They rested on his tongue, strangely solid, but nothing more than twisted and beaten up vowles in his mind.

Izuku felt a weak prick of ice against his forehead again, the rush of cold giving him a pleasant feeling. It made a small smile twitch onto his lips, and he gripped his friend’s sleeve again. The gesture wasn’t matting, but he put forth as much effort as he could; Feeling himself nod off despite having been told to try and stay awake.

“It ‘ill..” He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth, hoping he sounded even the slightest bit convincing. The teenager knew it wasn’t reassuring in the slightest, especially not in his half-lucid state, but he felt a hand press onto his head; The touch light and uncharacteristically subdued in Izuku’s mind. It was a nice thing in comparison to the burning and searing white agony that he experienced days before at the Gekkeiju’s base.

“It might, but not if you go to class today. It’ll make it worse, especially with the fever you have.” The dual quirk user said, voice faint in the other’s ears. His tone wasn’t aggressive though, and stayed oddly gentle. “I’m going to get you a washcloth real quick, and bring Sensei, too. Keep your eyes open.”

“M’kay..” Izuku agreed, hand slipping from his classmate’s sleeve. 

Everything was a foggy haze, a downwards spiral that reminded him that he was in for a long lecture, if not one that was mostly involved someone trying to ask how he got so sick- Or how he obtained injuries in his backside that were _clearly_ made by someone else. 

If all things went to hell, he’d do what he could to avoid confrontation. He had a number of things he could sputter off the top of his head, and although most of them weren’t convincing in the slightest, it’d probably be an excuse that drew attention to his reasoning as to why he’d go that far to hide such an injury that could get him killed. There were two possibilities after that, two possibilities only. 

They’d draw a conclusion that he was getting harmed every time he left campus, and therefore would probably be restricted and on house arrest for his own ‘safety’, or they’d actually try and listen to what he was saying and believe one of his shitty excuses. 

His mom would be downright horrified if she _ever_ found out what he did as Ace. What happened to him as he played the role of a vigilante in tight corners without any room to breathe and take a moment to feel safe and secure; Out of harm’s way.

If the raid went well, he’d be able to finally get a break from it all. If he could complete his crazy and nearly impossible plan, he’d be able to get out and bring Avenging Angel and Mouse to safety. That was the only thing in Izuku’s way; The only thing that was preventing him from being able to break down the wall of privacy and secrecy that forced him to hide every misshapen scar that formed on his skin. 

He had stories for each injury, both mental and physical. He had two pairs of eyes, two worlds to try and live in. There was no way to balance one without letting the other fall, but he kept those struggles to himself each time he messed up and caused one of his actions to affect his opposing life.

No matter what he did, someone was always there and waiting for him to mess up- For his words to slip and for him to share information that shouldn’t ever have been spoken of to an authority. He was risking everything he had, all to save a child and a hero. And yet, in the process that he was trying to go through, there was a pretty good chance he’d end up risking more than just one of his many vibrances during such a mission. 

There was a chance he’d end up dying one too many times, and if he did, both Mouse and Avenging Angel would suffer the consequences, and his peers would learn of his deathly situation in a much more gruesome way than how he’d like. 

His mother would blame herself for letting him play the role as ‘Ace’, and his teachers would fester with guilt and a desire to know _why_ he hadn’t trusted them enough to say anything. Izuku wanted to, he clung to the idea that they’d still care about him even after the raid and rescue operation he was undergoing without backup, but the faint doubt still lingered in his mind.

Briefly he wondered if enduring all of this pain would be worth it in the end, exclusively because he might not even get a chance to ever be left alone after he pulled off the stunt he was planning on doing. The situation he was planning on entering since he first came in contact with Mouse, and realized that Avenging Angel had been captured. 

Since he realized Miura and Haruta were stuck in situations where they had no chance of getting out safely. Since he realized they had no chance of getting out alive unless they were to lose a limb or lose what little freedoms they already had. It made sense as to why they didn’t hop the gun and sever their ties, let alone try and jeopardize their positions by telling the authorities about the hellish torment they currently had to deal with on the daily. 

Izuku shuddered slightly, hearing voices again echo in his ears. The words bounced around in his skull, but he couldn’t understand any of it. They were soft and lacked any aggression; Although he did recognize the gruffer and new voice to be his teacher’s, clearly alarmed at whatever Todoroki was telling him. 

He heard shuffling, someone squatting down besides his bedside and reaching out to place a rag on his head; A harsh whisper being muttered right after. The freckled teenager was too out of it to really care, merely blinking his eyes open and forcing himself to keep his head out of the world of regret and denial that he often got lost in. 

The hand was warm, a contrast to the previous chill that radiated from the right side of his classmate. In response, the heat trilling up his spine and into his nerves, Izuku tried to inch away from the touch; To inch away from what could get him burned and cause another meltdown. 

Did such a thing even _count_ as a meltdown? 

His head was pounding, and he couldn’t see a damn thing despite his eyes being open. He knew that there was a rag being pressed to his forehead, and that his classmate had succeeded in getting Aizawa; But he couldn’t process anything else or come to any form of conclusion. 

Briefly, Izuku heard his teacher mumble something, tone a mixture between heavy concern and something similar to fondness, although he couldn’t focus long enough to hear a difference. 

Exhaustion pulled at him, and he reached out just to brush his fingertips along the sleeve of his teacher’s shirt, before unconsciousness gripped his head and gently tugged him out of the world of the living- Then again, he knew it wasn’t his quirk, so perhaps it truly was just him succumbing to sickness and overexertion. 

**— — —**

When he woke up, it felt like the sun that danced across the sky had been replaced with a distant buzz, a gentle ocean swishing around his head and letting him breathe through flurries of bubbles that popped inside of his mouth and gifted him oxygen to intake into his weak and bruised lungs.

His back ached in familiar weakness, a warning to how quickly he tried to sit up after getting lost in his head, barely awake in his half-lucid state. He blinked groggily, the sluggish feeling still connected to his bones and preventing him from fully moving. It was a heavy feeling, like something weighing him down, except there was nothing on him besides his comforter.

For a few seconds, he forgot he was in his dorm; Eyes wide and brows furrowed as he came to adjust and recognize his surroundings to be his own. His skin crawled, sweat sticking to the undersides of his shirt and clinging to the bandages that were wrapped around his chest and covering his backside. 

There was a soft prickle of iciness against his forehead, and he felt someone’s hand brush against his head. The rag dripped, a few droplets of water sliding down his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. It was both soothing and slightly unnerving, which made him flinch and recoil from whoever was currently placing the cold cloth across his head. 

At the recoil and hiss of pain from the vigilante, whoever was in the room paused; Cloth retracting as a soft spoken whisper was echoed into the room, tone careful and almost scarily concerned. “Midoriya?”

Izuku furrowed his brows, peeling his eyes back open and squinting against the soft white light that illuminated the room, and he inhaled the world around him before trying to let his eyes fully adjust. Once he did, he glanced off to the side from where the voice had come from, blinking slowly and offering a weak and shaky nod to who was sitting there, a chair having been brought into the room. 

“Mm..” He mumbled, slowly piecing the situation together and recognizing the person by his bedside to be his teacher, which made him sit up faster and sputter a meaningless apology- Suddenly hyper aware of the fact he had missed class and brought his health into the limelight, uncomfortably so. “Ah-h, Aizawa-Sensei!” 

The universe seemed to slow down, and it made Izuku dizzy.

There was a pause, and a look of mild confusion passed over his teacher’s face, before a small and nearly unnoticeable twitch of his brow signaled amusement and slight relief was present in the adult’s mind. “Are you with me? You weren’t responding there for a while.”

“Nn..” The student didn’t really know how to describe the loopy and half-aware state he was in, so he shrugged limply and took a few minutes to try and clear his head and get the fuzziness he felt to stop assaulting his current state. “Not really..”

“That’s okay.” His teacher replied, softly. It was a quiet tone, nearly hushed out of a panic; Except there was no franticness in his voice. If anything, he sounded slightly relieved at the response given to him. Probably because a response was better than none, but such an emotion was a nice thing to hear. “You have a fever. Did you know about it yesterday?”

“No-..” Izuku paused, brows furrowing. He was aware of the injury, aware of the tugging exhaustion that made him slip quietly into bed without dinner and brush aside his classmates' concern with a weak smile and yawn, but he hadn’t known he had gotten sick. Just that his back had hurt and everything had been burning. 

He swallowed, “Sorta.”

There was another beat of silence, and Izuku half expected to be scowled at or to hear a frustrated mutter, but he didn’t. He misplaced himself back within Fury’s office, heat burning up his spine and angry mutters threatening him and Haruta. But, alas, he heard a soft exhale from his teacher and was ripped away from the scent of blood and memory of ash. 

“I see.” Aizawa said, voice calm and level. It made the latter want to pull a pillow over his head and hide until he was certain he was actually dead, and not just reliving the moment time and time again. 

Izuku fumbled with the blanket on his lap, hand curling into the fabric and wringing it out. It was slightly therapeutic, but he couldn’t dwell on it for too long before a wave of panic pushed itself over him and placed him in a room of darkness and disappointment. “Please don’t be m-mad.”

His mentor shook his head, “I’m not, Midoriya.”

“You’re not?” He asked, shakily. In all truth, he expected his teacher to be mad, or at the least bit have a more disappointing tone when speaking to him. Izuku had been aware of the sickness that started to enter his system, and yet his teacher was yet to call him out on it. 

Fear was an instinctive response at this point, no matter what he tried to do to stop it. His time at the Gekkeiju’s base had wrung him in on it, wrapping him around the anxieties and habits of submission. It didn’t matter what he did, because no matter what, the chance of facing Fury’s quirk or a burn across his skin was still strong enough to make him obey and hold his tongue. 

“No. You worried me, and Todoroki, though.” His teacher said faintly, reaching over and pressing the cloth back onto his forehead, damp again. “You’re lucky he came in to try and wake you. Why was your door locked?”

“I..” He frowned, trying to answer each question that was brought up. Normally he was better at lying through his teeth and remembering each scenario he came up with to hide behind, but today he just _wasn’t_ able to. 

Maybe he could just say he was paranoid about something happening when he slept? 

After all, anyone could lock their doors in the dormitory. He just always made sure to lock his, when he left, when he was inside the room, or if he was going on a patrol. He locked his door no matter what; Kept a set of keys on him just in case. There was no reason for him to _not_ lock the door, so it made no sense as to why he’d be questioned over it. 

Well, technically that was a lie, but he just wanted to think that his safety wasn’t as monitored in comparison to his peers. He was in a different position in balance when placed besides his classmates; As if he was on an entire different shelf. And he was, fuck, he was so far up in his own mess, there wasn’t a chance in hell he could ever be level with his friends until he saved Mouse and Avenging Angel. 

“Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.” The adult’s voice caught his attention again, a sigh following right after. The words were spoken in a similar context to an apology, but Izuku didn’t really know as to _why_ it sounded so similar to a simple, ‘I’m sorry’. “Are you feeling any better?”

He thought about it for a few minutes, trying to connect the emotions and physical well-bring into some form of a response. There were plenty of things he could say, but none of them would soothe his doubt. 

Izuku made a vague gesture, his movements sluggish. “Kinda..”

“That’s good.” His teacher nodded in what was probably approval, or a more commonly expressed relief. Aizawa showed more expressions to him than any other student, and Izuku was starting to believe it was because otherwise, his teacher feared that he wouldn’t be able to understand the sincerity shown.

Probably. 

The teenager tried to clear his head, squinting at the ceiling. He still felt warm, and his back was still blistering and festering with agitation at the worsening condition of the infection, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully acknowledge the pain that was slowly becoming more and more prominent. He felt too loopy to really admit to anything, let alone try and ask for something to soothe pain without sounding extremely suspicious, so he was stuck. 

After a few moments, he cleared his throat and let a small frown appear on his face, glancing back at his mentor with a small wince. “What time is it-t..?” 

Aizawa met his gaze steadily, offering no frustration or signs of aggression. He reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a glass of water and gingerly handing it to Izuku, who blinked in mild surprise at the cup that was gently placed into his hands. “Mid-Afternoon, last time I checked.”

“Oh.” He said, staring at the water in the glass and looking at the tiny ice-cubes that weren’t melted, floating along the surface of the liquid. The cup was cold against his palms, a familiar texture of condensation rolling down the edge. “It’s that late already..?”

For a few seconds, he couldn’t bring himself to lift the cup to his mouth; But after what felt like a minute, he brought the glass to his lips and let the water rinse out the bitter taste in his mouth. It was cold, reminding him of the crisp morning air that tickled the tips of his ears after every vigilante patrol.

“You slept most of the day, but your fever had gone down quite a bit. It’s high again, and it’s growing worse.” His teacher agreed, without any hassle. He leaned forward in the chair, pressing the rag back against Izuku’s head. “Do you think you’d be willing to come to the nurses’ office?”

 _Would Recovery-Girl even want to deal with me?_ He wondered, vaguely trying to remember if it’d be worth even asking about. Probably not, as he was pretty sure Aizawa had this type of discussion with him awhile back. 

Izuku paused, bringing the glass up to his lips to try and rinse away the imaginary taste of blood that was bathing his tongue unwillingly. His legs felt numb under the covers, the limbs asleep from having been stuck in one position so long. After he took a sip, he shakily lowered the glass back down into his lap, hands still clasped around it. 

“Uhm.. I don’t think I can..” The teenager had to take a second to get his thoughts in order, brows furrowing in slight annoyance at his lack of coherency when speaking. “I don’t think I can w-walk..”

Maybe he could, if he really put his mind to it, but the idea of getting up and having to walk practically halfway across campus was quite sickening; And he already had far too much on his plate to try and fixate his attention on, let alone something like getting up when he’d much rather stay asleep in his bed. 

“Figured.” Aizawa exhaled airily.

“Sorry..” Izuku bowed his head, hands clenching around the cup briefly. It was his own damn fault for being careless and not going down to the nurse for cold-medicine, or perhaps even Tylenol, meaning it was also entirely his fault for letting any form of sickness haunt him. 

The injury on his back was more so up for debate, seeing as it was nearly impossible to find a way to treat that and re-wrap the injury without needing a second set of hands and eyes to help him. It was a grueling task, and would be severely painful. And as such, it was highly doubtful that he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath, let alone dodge the questions that would follow if anyone saw such violation dancing upon his skin. 

“Don't apologize for something you can't control.” His teacher responded, the rag being gently pressed back across his forehead. “No one determines when they get sick, or how bad it’ll be.”

Technically though, Izuku did. He had plenty of options to reach out and ask for assistance, in nearly every other way. He could have asked for help as Ace, could have stopped by the Nighteye agency in taters and asked with chattering teeth if anyone there in the building had medicine for infections. 

He could have gotten severely injured in training and played everything off as nothing, gotten away with being healed by Recovery-Girl with a few extra questions that would have made everything tense and awkward, but he _had_ chances to take. 

He just never took any of them.

Waves of exhaustion plagued his body, but he couldn’t get his eyelids to shut. He wished he could, suffocating on his thoughts and lack of confirmation. It felt like his current state was his fault, and it really was. He should have been more careful when interacting with Haruta, but he hadn’t, and now he paid the price. 

Izuku wished he didn’t have to.

“Sorry, though..” He cleared his throat, tapping a finger along the glass, before exhaling slightly to try and diverge his thoughts. Nothing was working though, sadly. It seemed like a lost cause to even bother, his mind an endless maze of truths and secrets that spat curses at one another for fun. “I kinda.. M-Missed class.”

His teacher arcaded a brow, “Was it intentional?”

“No..” Izuku shook his head, knowing full well he would’ve much rather chose to go to class and worsen his condition then have to stay in his dormitory under surveillance because of a measly fever. The only thing that brought him a bit of comfort was the fact that he was yet to be found out, and no one had seen or come to the conclusion of his injuries underneath his shirt; Carved deep into his back.

“It’s alright, then.” Aizawa said, catching his attention again and giving him what seemed to be something akin to a half-grimace. “You are barely even awake, I’m surprised you can maintain a steady conversation in your current state.”

The student blinked, confusion washing over him slightly. “Oh..?”

“You have a high fever, and have rather shallow breathing. I’m surprised your state didn’t worsen while you slept.” He said, voice gruff despite the quiet volume level, specks of concern blooming at the end of the sentence. “If it did, I would have been fully required to call in Recovery-Girl again.”

Izuku felt his heart drop. “ _Again?_ ”

In response, his teacher gave a firm nod, sighing again. He did that a lot, apparently- Or maybe it was just the full stress and burden of a situation like this that was causing the man to sigh so damn much. Izuku honestly didn’t know. “You woke up panicked a while ago.”

Several memories rushed to his aid, fuzzy and distant as if he was viewing such a thing through a disoriented lense. He could vaguely recall jolting awake, but he wasn’t sure what had happened afterwards; Hearing the way his heart had beat at the time. It echoed unfavorably in his ears, and he nearly wished he was deaf so he wouldn’t have to hear such a noise. 

“Oh- Oh. I’m sorry- That.. I’m s-sorry, uhm,” He squeezed the blanket under the glass cup with his spare hand, wringing his fingers through it to try and soothe the panic that bubbled up in his throat. 

It wouldn’t matter how hard he tried to ignore it, as it wasn’t something that could be swept under the rug and tossed into a box to be shipped off to another country- Another meaningless address that would be used to fulfill little to nothing.

“It spooked me, was all. Don’t worry too much about it.” His teacher dismissed his concerns, far too easily for it to have been a causal response. It made Izuku’s head spike, vision foggy with a heat that he wished would go away and come to haunt him on another day. “You had just been rather..”

“Alarmed?” Izuku offered, shakily.

Aizawa shook his head from where he sat in the other seat, searching for another word to try and describe what he had seen when his student had awoken a few hours earlier. Once he came to a conclusion, he met the student’s gaze, “Scared.” 

_Scared of what?_ Izuku asked desperately, but his question never reached the open air of his dorm room. He was glad it didn’t, glad such a statement would t cause more questions to erupt from the mound of curiosity and clear intrigue that was clinging to Aizawa’s tone and breathing down his teacher’s neck. 

“Ahah…” He forced down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat, blinking away the spare wetness that started to pry past his eyelids. Crying on the spot would not be a good idea, no matter how easy it’d be to let all of his misery go and leave him in the form of harsh sobs and tears. “Y-Yeah.”

“Do you remember what you had dreamt about?” The adult asked, voice neutral. But, from what Izuku could see in his teacher’s expression, it was far from blank. It was a weak inquisition, gentle and sharp all at once. The depths of the hero’s eyes swirled, keen on finding an answer- Nearly hopeful for a truthful response from the student who he had been watching over for the past four hours. 

_Fury. I dreamed about Fury and his quirk, and blood and knives and Mouse’s screams and the sickening stench of rotting flesh._ He thought, a sharp pang of pity and fear going through his body. _I dreamed about watching Miura bleed out on the concrete, cigarette burns along her arms and moving up mine._

Izuku’s head was pounding, and he shakily inhaled before forcing his head to shake side-to-side. He didn’t want to remember any of the nightmares that slipped into his mind, let alone try and explain them. “No, n-not really..”

“You called out for a person named Miura.” His teacher said, giving him what looked to be a questioning expression. Something must have flashed in Izuku’s eyes, because a moment later his mentor’s were narrowing slightly. 

_Miura?_

Dread pooled in his stomach as soon as his companion’s name was stated, fear bubbling into his throat and threatening to summon tears in the corners of his eyes. If he started to cry, there was a pretty good chance his life would be flipped upside down even further. “I- I did?”

“Yes.” Aizawa drawled, eyes watching him carefully. It wasn’t an accusing expression, but it was close enough. It made Izuku’s resolve crumble, and he winced slightly, hoping that maybe he could come up with a believable excuse in the next two minutes before the more serious questions came in. 

“Oh.” He said, voice quiet. 

It must’ve been one hell of a dream, far worse than what he currently could imagine and recall in the depths of his mind for him to have actually called out for a person. It was a shock he hadn’t started having nightmares and voicing such panic in the dead of night earlier- Maybe it was just because he was sick and stressed more than usual, which caused him to let his concerns and anxieties bleed into his life far more than normal.

Images filled his head, washing over him in hues of red and black; Ash swiped across his brow and smudged under his eyes, forced down his throat in thick swirls that got stuck inside of his lungs. The soot would stain his body greys and deep mundane colors, unforgiving no matter what he managed to beg.

Blood splattered across his skin, red and sticky. It stung, burning in his eyes and making him freeze where he was on the bed, nearly forgetting that he was in UA and in a relatively safe area where he wouldn’t be thrown into concrete and forced to choke on his saliva and vomit. 

A rare and highly appreciated thing, actually; The softness under him and the gentle wisps of air that spun about in the room due to his fan. Izuku swallowed the saliva in his mouth, exhaling to clear his mind and shaking his head again, as if it would brush aside all of his worries and anxieties. All of his fears and concerns; The things he forced himself to ignore in favor of never opening up about the issues at hand. 

“She.. She was, uhm, a friend, I guess.” He cleared his throat, wincing slightly at the raised brow of his teacher, doubtful at such a reluctant response. He gave his mentor another smile, though it was painful. “She u-uh.. Got in a q-quirk-accident, awhile b-back. I remember it once in a while-.. That’s all.” 

It wasn’t a lie, although it was still far from the truth. Miura met with him every now and then, bruises littering her body and a hollowed out look in her eyes. She was always suffering from another injury; Her pain always bleeding out and becoming a shared agony between him, too. It was a quirk accident in the sense she was forced to suffer far more than Izuku was, which added onto the emotions that he felt. 

“You don’t have to justify your dreams, Midoriya.” Aizawa said after a minute, giving a nod in confirmation. “Sorry if the question resurfaced any bad memories.”

The teenager shook his head, easily slipping back into the mindset that often plagued him. It wasn’t as bad as normal, but it was enough to make him hunch his shoulders a bit and look away from his teacher, not wanting to keep eye contact. “No.. I understand the.. The concern you must’ve f-felt.” 

It was always _concern,_ the type of anxiety that would cling to you and whisper things into your ear, wondering if everything truly _was_ okay, and if everything would actually turn out perfectly fine. 

He didn’t know how to fix that type of emotion, or how to stop it from effecting his peers and accommodators; The people who stayed by his side and tried to help him through it all. Or well, tried to help him through the pieces of agony and clear destruction that he already experienced- The things that they actually _knew_ about. 

The adult sighed after a few moments, looking at him with an odd fondness. It made the student want to finger-gun nervously, but instead, he just gave a weak smile to his indirect-guardian. Aizawa seemed to resist the urge to deadpan at such an expression, exhaling again. “You’re right, it was concerning.” 

“Sorry.” He bowed his head again, feeling his hair brush over his face and the rag threaten to fall off of his forehead. The coolness it brought was a nice feeling, but he wouldn’t risk the comfort over showing his guilt.

“Don’t apologize.” His teacher gave him a dubious look, almost offended that the younger had said another amending statement in a timespan under five minutes. “I thought we went over this already?”

“Ah- Uh, o-okay.” Izuku caught himself before he said, ‘Sorry’ again, giving another nervous smile to his teacher. His hands felt numb, the muscles aching in a familiar manner. He clenched a fist, frowning briefly before shaking his head and blinking away the blurriness that started to form in the corners of his vision. 

It wasn’t a horrible feeling, but he knew there were plenty of other things he could do instead of contemplating if he deserved to suffer like how he currently was; Or if his position as both a vigilante-spy and student was worth the trouble he was knee-deep in. He knew it was worth it, and that he’d manage to pull it off as long as he kept his head down and fired his way through the maze of agony he was lost in, but the doubt he felt still existed. 

_It always has to exist, I guess._ He decided faintly, feeling a prick of annoyance enter his system. Despite such a thing, he sighed and quickly brushed such a feeling away; Knowing it wasn’t of great importance in his current situation. 

“Er, Aizawa-Sensei?” He cleared his throat, lifting one hand to press his palm into the cold rag on his head. It was a nice mercy, if anything. Perhaps if he could get his temperature down and manage to stomach a bit of water or soup, he’d go and make himself shower. It’d be a pain to try and re-wrap the bandages, as well as even wash his back, but it might clean out whatever fluids and infected scabs have formed.

Probably not, but at this point that was one of his only options left. It’s not like he could ask for help, and even if he could, it’d be one hell of a situation to try and get through without breaking down or resetting. 

“Yes?” The adult responded, casual as ever. It was like he had no anger, held no frustrations. It was odd; Something that made Izuku walk on eggshells even when told that he wouldn’t be in trouble for the things he had done in the past.

“Did you stay here the whole time..?” Izuku inquired, mind wrapping itself in a thick blanket of exhaustion. Inside his head was foggy and whispering, words falling short on the tip of his tongue; Illegible and foreign. It was as if he wasn’t thinking in Japanese, wasn’t processing the world at a rate that could be retained and translated. 

The man gave him what seemed to be a borderline exasperated look, “Yes.”

“Oh- Uhm, who taught the c-class then?” The student asked, blinking away the heat that pulsed in his head; Clouding his gaze. It was a soft and nearly gentle warmth, but it wasn’t the favorable hotness that came with coffee or steaming tea that had been freshly poured. It was the heat that reminded him of the sun breathing down his neck, rippling across his skin and downing him in a humidity that radiated without mercy.

“I allowed Mic to go over the previous days’ plans with the class, so you didn’t miss much.” Aizawa replied, nodding once. “Today’s assignment was supposed to be a group scenario, and it wouldn’t have been the easiest to catch up on without being present for the majority of the lesson.” 

The student in question nodded, thinking over what his teacher must’ve been describing. Group lessons were naturally complicated, and he already knew that from what Aizawa was explaining to him, the lesson wouldn’t be of much benefit to anyone if a single student was left out. That included a quirkless nobody like him. 

“I pushed it back a few periods so you’d be able to join with us when you were fully healed.” His mentor added, and the words rang a few bells in the younger’s head, connecting several thoughts and giving him a chance to think the words over.

 _Oh, that’s nice._ His mind twisted into slight warmth, a breeze of gentle appreciation climbing along his skin and sitting itself down in every joint he possessed. _Too bad I’m still hurt from Fury._

“What?” His teacher’s voice echoed in his ears.

The world snapped back into position, and suddenly Izuku wasn’t sitting in a chair with smoke swirling in the air from a cigarette. He blinked away the blurriness that clouded his vision, turning his head and giving a confused stare to the adult beside him. “Hm?” 

Aizawa stared at him, eyes wide in a way that told Izuku that he had been muttering out loud. Muttering his concerns and thoughts out loud, and being far too blunt and personal to just _lie._ His thoughts weren’t supposed to turn into anxious fucking muttering. “You’re hurt?”

“Oh- Uh,” He felt a wave of fear go over him, apprehension hitting against his skull and begging him to try and reset, to do anything to take back the words that had been spoken. “Yes- N-.. Not-t exactly, uhm.” 

“Who‘s ‘Fury’?” The question made Izuku want to cry, nearly allowing his resolve to crack in favor of finally being shielded from pain and constant agony. But he thought of Mouse and Avenging Angel, and immediately ignored the desire to tell the truth and allow himself to be sheltered.

He had to save them first, no matter the pain.

“I-.. Would you believe me.. If I, uhm, said it was a.. Name for a..” Izuku couldn’t get an excuse out, head spinning as panic spiked in his system. His heart returned to hammering in his chest, and he winced, knowing full well resetting wasn’t going to save him, meaning he had no escape from his anxious muttering, “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t have an e-excuse.” 

“Why would you try to use an excuse at all, Problem-Child?” His teacher asked, and Izuku half expected to hear whiplash and anger in the man’s tone. There wasn’t any, which made his heart thunder more. 

He feared the effects of Hell, geared the euphoria of Heaven and the sickness that would follow it. The pain was unfair; And it would blister across his skin. It wouldn’t matter what position he laid in, for it would bubble up under the bandages and send him spiraling into a world where he couldn’t move. It prevented him from seeing the universe in its glory, prevented him from acknowledging the gifts given to him by his friends. 

Could he even call them friends if he couldn’t tell them the _truth?_

“I..” He found an invisible pair of hands wrap around his throat, preventing him from saying all of the things he wished he could explain. No words dared to enter his mouth, and he couldn’t get any air into his lungs for a while. He felt like he was floating but sinking into a bottomless pit at the same time; Unable to move. 

“Midoriya?” He felt a hand reach out, gingerly tapping his shoulder. It was meant to ground him, to keep him aware and awake and _okay,_ but it made pain and expectancy hit him like a freight train. 

Izuku recoiled slightly, stopping before he chucked himself away from his teacher’s hand. He blinked, quickly, forcing himself to acknowledge where he was and who was with him, trying to help. He wasn’t in Fury’s office, and wasn’t at the Gekkeiju base. 

He was safe. 

“Can.. Can you l-let it slide?” He tried to ask, voice choking up, he had no excuse; And he wished he was more careful so he wouldn’t have the backlash of sharing his thoughts to those who only wanted to help. _Everyone wants to help, and I can’t accept any of it yet- That’s my own fault._ “Please? I don’t want to.. Deal with it all, right n-now. Being sick is b-bad enough.”

Aizawa stared at him, hand removed from his shoulder and ghosting outwards- Hesitation in his teacher’s movements. The adult narrowed his eyes, before exhaling and giving the student a long look. “If you’re hurt, even if you can’t or don’t want to explain how, it’s important that the injury gets treated.” 

Izuku couldn’t move, but gave a shaky jolt of his head, knowing full-well that even if a person promises not to ask about the injuries on his back, it’d forever haunt him and they’d breathe down his neck until he told them where and how he got such vile wounds. Fuck, let alone how he managed to treat them without contact with another- _Fury caused them, and then he treated them._

“I-.. I can’t let you know.” The student said, gripping the glass water in his hands and staring at it. His head tipped down, hair falling back into his face, the rag yet again threatening to fall into his lap. 

“I won’t press any harder.” He responded with, hand extending, before freezing, Izuku blinked away the fuzziness that came back to his vision, looking at his teacher's offer of reassurance, and giving a shaky nod. As such, the adult carefully reached back and set his hand on Izuku’s shoulder, except this time the kid didn’t flinch. “You have my word.” 

“That’s..” He swallowed thickly, trying to piece together what he was thinking about. If he lied, that’d split the small amount of trust he already had in his teacher, if not ruin his teacher’s trust in _him,_ so if anything he was stuck in a fancy loophole that was going to get him hurt from nearly every angle. “That’s s-still terrifying.”

“I understand your hesitance, but if you’re hurt you need to get it checked out.” Aizawa replied, tone surprisingly soft despite the ‘urgent’ concern in his eyes. He was trying to negotiate with a secretive teeanger who had no excuse, and no reasonable alibi, as to why he had burns and horrifying cuts on his back. 

Of course, his teacher didn’t know what type of injury he had; But it still _existed._

“Uh- I know.” He mumbled, eyes flickering with an unspoken paranoia. He knew his teacher noticed it, knew that Aizawa could see and analyze the wary look that plagued him, but Izuku didn’t know how to stomp it all down. He was sick, running a high fever, and drifting into the world of the unknown. There wasn’t much he could do to share his current predicament, let alone find a way to hide behind the heroes he so badly wanted to become.

His teacher met his gaze, calm as ever. “Do you trust us?”

“I _do-_ I j-just.. I can’t just..” Izuku struggled to find the words, brows furrowing as he gestured with one hand, as if it’d explain the entire situation. As if it’d explain his reasoning behind not letting anyone know why he carried such a heavy burden, such a horrid injury. 

“Alright.” The man replied. 

The younger froze, hand pressing to his forehead again to hold the rag in place. He blinked lightly, hoping that the tension in his body would dissolve back into a peaceful and weak-willed exhaustion. “Alright?”

 _There’s no way._ His mind turned borderline frantic, confusion swiping over him and pressing harshly against his skin. Doubt filled his body, bleeding into his senses like blood through bandages. _There’s no way he actually means that?_

“Yes, alright.” Aizawa agreed, sighing softly and retracting his hand from his student’s shoulder. The movement made Izuku want to ask for the comfort to stay- For the touch to stay so he wouldn’t feel entirely alone all over again, but he didn’t say anything. “I understand.”

He swallowed thickly, “I didn’t even-..” 

“You don’t have to, not right now at least.” He said instead, eyes flashing something akin to slight amusement. Izuku felt a wave of guilt wash over him, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to discuss this conversation for a _long time._ “Focus on resting, and we can have this type of discussion for when you’re more lucid and aware.” 

There was a hint of impatience in his teacher's voice, but it wasn’t the type of frustration that made Izuku want to curl up and hide. It was the impatience that wanted an answer, wanted to help and was unable to. The inability to properly reach out and demand proper explanations. 

“Okay.” He said, instead. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, eyelids heavy and mind slipping back into an unconscious limbo that dined and dashed with the beings of death who fed him life. “If I-.. If I sleep..”

 _If I sleep, will you still stay?_ Was what he wanted to ask, but the words got stuck in his throat. Would that be an odd question to say out loud? It was different when he asked his mother, he’d imagine, but he hadn’t gotten sick like this in a long time. On the rare occasion he did, from all of his memories, he had only asked when he was far younger- No older than ten. 

There had never been a chance for him to ask when he got older, as a stubborn insecurity plagued him when middle school started knocking against the base of his skull and the world started pointing cruel hands at him, the blame of the universe cutting against his resolve and will to even do so much as breathe in disagreement. 

As a teenager, he honestly hadn’t ever expected for his state to worsen enough to cause him to want to stay in another’s presence, let alone while he was too sick to get onto his feet of all hell were to break loose. He had never expected any illness to cause him to be this sick. 

It had never been something he planned on, really. There were times when he knew he got a cold, or a mild symptom of a seasonal-flu or something or another, but it never put him at great risk. 

Or at least he had never felt such a thing was a large risk on his part. If it killed him, he knew he’d pop right back into the world; And then force himself to treat the sickness before it could end his life yet again like a cruelly planned joke.

“I’ll still be here when you wake back up.” His teacher agreed, not missing a beat. It was a soft spoken tone, laced with understanding and something similar to fondness. It could have been protectiveness, something that urged the man to stay close just in case Izuku awoke and needed something. 

“I’m not letting you go untreated though, we have discussed this type of thing before.” Aizawa’s voice was a mere echo in Izuku’s ears at this point, something distant and shallow. It was like the pull of the tides, washing up against the beaches and dragging sand back under the foamy bubbles. “Whether the injury is from yourself or another, you are obliged to get it treated.” 

_It’d be easier to say it was from myself,_ Izuku heard himself think, somewhere against his own will. _But it’d be too hard to explain all of the reasons and abilities as to how and why I’d create such a wound.. It wouldn’t be worth it._

He didn’t know why sleep had started to grab his wrists and pull him away from the world of the awake and aware, but he didn’t have enough energy to fight it; Let alone to try and keep his eyes open. “Mm.. ‘Kay.”

Someone took the water glass from his hands, preventing the risk of spilling the liquid over the covers. He was so tired, so worn out in comparison to how he normally was after a patrol or meeting with the Gekkeiju. It was a nightmare, a downright _nightmare._

He thought about his limited options for a few moments, coming to a conclusion that he had no real connection to. He really wanted to go on a walk right now; But if he were to ask, it’d be both pathetic and rather idiotic of him to think that he would be able to do any form of physical activity so soon. 

Lucky him, in his half-lucid state, he was pretty damn stupid. “Sensei..” 

“Yes, Midoriya?” Aizawa replied, patiently letting the freckled teenager ramble. If it was up to him, Izuku was pretty sure he would have taken him directly to Recovery-Girl for better surveillance and assistance. But he was respecting the vigilante’s boundaries instead, and that was greatly appreciated. 

“When ‘m better,” He squinted, peeling his eyes open briefly to glance at his teacher, who stared back at him in mild curiosity; A passive interest that was merely waiting for Izuku to finish his train of thought. The student hummed, blinking again. “Can we just.. Walk ‘round.. Or something?” 

Surprisingly, after a momentary pause, the pro-hero snorted in what sounded like genuine amusement. A mixture of laughability and calm understanding. “When you are better, I’d be glad to go on a walk with you. But only once you’re better.”

 _I wish I was better now._ The student thought, but it was quickly brushed aside in favor of ignoring the burning guilt in the back of his mind. Guilt wouldn’t do him any good right now. _Mom must be worried._

“M’kay.” He sunk further back down into his bed, the covers seeming to move on their own and wrap back around his frame. His back hissed at the way his shirt pressed tightly against his spine, the skin aggravated under the bandages and suffering through infection. And yet, the student ignored the aggression his body threw at him, letting his thoughts wander and consciousness carefully break apart. 

He sat there for a few moments, trying to decipher his breathing from his teacher’s. It didn’t seem to last for long, his breathing being light and nearly inaudible in comparison to the adult’s. 

After what felt like several long and drawn out minutes, he felt a hand gently brush against his forehead; The rag aging his skin being removed and then replaced with another a few seconds later. The coolness returned, sharper and more precise against the sixteen year old’s nerves. “Go to sleep, Problem-Child.”

The student couldn’t help but laugh a little at such an order, voice getting stuck in his throat. It dripped down his windpipe like honey from a spoon, a spool of silk being thrown down from a fabric rack. 

But he didn’t mind it, snickering hoarsely. “I’m trying.”

Not a moment's delay, he could barely make out the exasperated sigh from his teacher. It wasn’t angry, or frustrated or even so much possessing a hint of annoyance. It was the friendly- Nearly _joking_ tone you’d hear from when a teacher got fed-up with a student’s sass, but was fond of them and understood the humor set between them. “Well, try harder then.”

Izuku smiled lightly, feeling the world turn into a blissful numbness all over again. Except this time, when the darkness finally closed around his vision and his senses went blank and left him to fall asleep, he welcomed it. 

Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you go, another fic to my side-pov series. I should be resting instead of writing so much shit at night,, but here I am posting it mid-afternoon. 
> 
> pog ig


End file.
